


one look and my heartbeat stops

by adverbialstarlight



Series: Ly Writes Some Crayla [2]
Category: Crier's War Trilogy - Nina Varela
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Crier is a Disaster, Dancing, F/F, First Meetings, Gay Panic, Human Crier (Crier's War), Oops, Party, Pining, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Swearing, yes very relevant tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 01:48:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21719629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adverbialstarlight/pseuds/adverbialstarlight
Summary: Crier meets Benjy and is told he knows her soulmate and is given the chance to meet her. Little does she know, they will meet sooner than she expected.(aka, a soulmate/soulmark au)
Relationships: Crier/Ayla (Crier's War)
Series: Ly Writes Some Crayla [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1552411
Comments: 16
Kudos: 67





	one look and my heartbeat stops

**Author's Note:**

> woooo another crier's war fic from me!! today's essential fic trope: soulmates. this has been in the works for a bit, so thank you for waiting those of you i promised it would be soon. thanks to @theperfectprophet for the beta and stopping me from making a fool of myself! title is from avalanche by walk the moon because all my titles are from them now, i guess? anyway, enjoy :D

Soulmates were not something often considered by royals. Political marriages and wars did not stop for love most of the time, and when it did, the result was, more often than not, a disaster. Because of this, Crier was raised to believe that soulmates were worth nothing. And for a long time, they were.

There was a geometric heart tattooed on the inside of her left wrist, bold and dark lines connecting into the intricate pattern. It was unlike any other Soulmark Crier had ever seen around court— often it was a flower upon the thumb, a feather behind the ear, a constellation on the ankle.

Some liked to show off their Soulmarks, they brandished them with pride and soft smiles. That was not the case for the court of Rabu, though. Soulmates, and therefore Soulmarks, were useless and meant nothing, so they were covered with powder or a chiffon scarf.

Crier’s Soulmark was concealed by a silver cuff bracelet. It was wide and thick, cold metal against her skin, a shield and a shackle on her heart. Her maids fastened it onto her wrist every morning before she left to meet her fiance, Kinok, for breakfast. She hardly thought much about the action for a long time, but that had been before.

Before she snuck out to watch one of the common people’s festivals one night, dressed in common cottons and a hood over her face, and saw for the first time what it was like to actually feel alive. Before she got engaged and became fascinated with the concept of soulmates. Before she met her soulmate.

Crier was walking down the side of one of the main streets, her head ducked down and her clothing plain as always when she visited the town.

After she’d seen the common festival that first night five months ago, she kept finding herself drawn back. Everytime she slipped past the palace guards and through the servant doors, Crier told herself she was going because, as the future ruler of Rabu, she should be familiar with her people and their culture. Secretly, she knew it was because of her own want and curiosity.

She strode past vendors with confidence, able to side step any small children and brush off any heckling and nagging vendors at this point. Eventually she got to the very center of the square where there was a stone fountain. There were only a few people loitering around the fountain right now, a young man with a large sketchbook, two children running around the rim, and a boy who seemed her age sitting with a cart of flowers. He wore the uniform of a palace servant, and Crier made sure to keep her head down as she sat on the opposite side of the fountain.

With a small sigh, Crier let herself take in her surroundings. The town thrummed with an energy so lively that the palace felt almost empty compared to it. Barely anyone gave Crier a second look here, something she’d come to enjoy, and best of all, there were flashes of Soulmarks everywhere. No one bothered to cover up the mark of their other halves with creams or jewelry, they flashed them freely even if not with their soulmate. Like in the court, Soulmarks did not dictate anyone’s affairs, but they were not treated as a burden either.

Subconsciously, Crier’s fingers drifted towards her wrist. They found only bare skin. Her chest felt lighter, and she didn’t do anything to hide the geometric heart as she pulled a journal from her bag, flipping to a blank page.

The boy with the flowers had been hollering his usual sales pitch a few feet away, stood atop the fountain’s ledge, but when Crier lifted her hand it seemed to completely fade from his lips. Crier looked up and her eyes met the boy’s immediately. His mouth was still ajar, eyes continuing to stray to Crier’s wrist. Her Soulmark. There was surprise and perhaps something else in his gaze, something that might’ve resembled jealousy. Then, he blinked and it was gone.

 _Strange_ , Crier thought to herself but turned back to her journal. She wasn’t sure what she’d write today, perhaps a poem? Pulling out her pen, Crier touched the tip to the paper, brows slightly furrowed.

That was as far as she got.

Suddenly, the boy with the flowers was in front of her. His posture was confrontational, and Crier’s breath hitched. Had she been caught? After all, if he was a servant, there wasn’t a doubt he’d seen Crier up close before. Even with a hood and sitting in the middle of a group of commoners, she was still the heir to the throne. But instead of revealing that she was the princess to everyone in the square, the boy said, “Your Soulmark.”

Blinking in confusion, Crier looked down at her wrist, which the boy was pointing at. “What about it?” she asked warily. Was this some sort of trick?

“It— that isn’t a very common Soulmark,” he told her. Crier nodded slowly. “And I know the person who has the same one.”

This time, Crier was sure she stopped breathing. Her soulmate, this boy knew her soulmate. She had a soulmate, and this flower boy knew them. The concept had become more and more appealing the more Crier learned about it, but she hadn’t dared hope that she’d ever have a chance to find them. And now, she might. Even married to Kinok, she would be able to say she had met her soulmate.

Finally, she said, “Really?” It came out more desperate than she’d been hoping, but this only amused the boy.

He crossed his arms. “Yes. But she’s got to agree to wanting to meet you first. Most people are not as fanatic over true love these days, you know. And she’s my best friend so I’m not going to just lead you to her, my boss or not.”

Crier nodded quickly. “Yes, of course. It is completely up to her, but if possible, I— I would like to meet her at least once. Thank you for telling me, she is lucky to have a friend such as yourself.”

“This full moon, I assume you know about the masquerade celebration near the seamstress’ shop,” the boy said. Crier had not, but she nodded. “If she wants to meet you too, I will find you and we’ll be there. If not, you leave her be.”

“Thank you again,” Crier began, trailing off as she realized she’d never learned the boy’s name. Knowing the names of those who served you was a sign of weakness, in her father’s opinion, but Crier still felt guilty. These people worked hard to make her life comfortable as possible, so the least she could do was know who they were, right?

“Benjy,” the boy supplied. With that, Benjy turned and walked back to his cart, lifting the dropped handles with practiced ease. Crier watched him continue to move down the street, calling out his pitch until he eventually disappeared around a corner.

A thrilled shiver ran through Crier. She was eager to meet this soulmate of hers, whoever she was. Perhaps her enthusiasm was not for prospective romance and instead for the potential first hand observation of a first meeting, but she was excited nonetheless. After a few restless minutes of scribbling into her journal, Crier stood again and started her walk back to the palace. When her maids put the cuff over her Soulmark before her scheduled luncheon, Crier did her best to suppress the intensified feeling of _wrongness_ that came with it.

* * *

When Benjy had first mentioned the celebration, Crier had been too shocked by the revelation about her soulmate to pay attention to the masquerade detail. Then, as she walked home later, she’d stopped mid-step and begun to worry.

She’d never been fond of the vulnerability that came with masquerade parties hosted by her father. You could never tell who a person might be, so she always had to choose her words even more carefully than usual. This was a commoner hosted masquerade, but it still applied. What if she got found out by one of the royal guards and her father— or worse, Kinok— heard that she’d been slipping out to, as her father called it, fraternize with peasants?

 _For your soulmate_ , she reminded herself. And so here she stood now, in the middle of a clearing with fifty other people, a cup of juice in her hand and a feathered bird mask she’d purchased two days before pinned carefully over her eyes. It’d been ten minutes since she’d arrived, and more and more people seemed to be flooding in by the minute. Benjy was nowhere in sight.

As she continued to stand, watching some of the people begin to dance, doubt began to creep in. What if her soulmate was already with someone and didn’t want to meet Crier? What if she turned Crier down because there would be too much pressure on her being universally bonded to the princess of the country?

Before she could give in to her nerves and decide to head back to the castle, a boy and a girl walked into the clearing, one of them in the fox mask Benjy had promised to be in. Their eyes met and Benjy said something to the girl he was with— Crier’s soulmate?— and began walking over to her. Crier forced herself to keep her eyes on the dancers and not on the girl, who seemed to be drifting towards the large bowl of juice.

“You actually came,” Benjy said as he came up to her. He sounded surprised as he said it. Crier tried not to be offended. Of course she’d come. Instead of voicing this, she merely shrugged.

They stood in silence for a long moment. Benjy seemed to have no intention to tell her anything, so Crier finally asked, “Did she want to meet me?”

“She said she doesn’t know yet. She came here though so you’ll just have to see what happens,” Benjy said. “And if she doesn’t want to, stay away.”

Crier nodded quickly. “Yes, of course. I’ll do anything to respect her wishes.”

Benjy studied her, something shifting in his sharp eyes. Then, he nodded. “Good. Enjoy the party.”

With that, he walked off again, leaving Crier standing alone with her juice once again. It didn’t bother her too much, instead of watching Benjy leave she moved to the edge where her back was against the wall. She was content to wait there and watching people spin around and giggle to the loud music, entranced.

Balls at the palace were never like this. They could never be like this. It was a somber thought, but it made Crier more determined to enjoy being here while it lasted— whether she met her soulmate at the end of the night or not.

A man in a wolf mask stepped up to her a bit later in the night, his steps sure and grin confident. “Would you care to dance, miss?” he asked her, outstretching a hand.

Crier blinked at him in surprise. “Oh,” she said after a moment. “That’s very kind of you, but I think I’m alright for now. Thank you.”

The man’s smile morphed into something more like a sneer, and he took another step towards her, eyes gleaming. “Please, I insist.”

“And she told you she’d rather not,” interjected a new voice.

They both turned to see the girl wearing the fox mask standing there. She was a few inches shorter than both Crier and the man, but her glare was enough to make it feel like she towered over both of them. Crier’s breath caught as their eyes met. It lasted only a moment before the girl turned back to the man.

“I think it’s best if you kindly fucked off and left her alone,” she said, stepping between them. The girl’s dark curly hair smelled faintly of ginger Crier noted before clearing away the thought. She didn’t even know if this was her soulmate or not, for god’s sake.

“And what if she _wants_ me to stay?” the man challenged. He glanced over the girl’s shoulder to Crier, whose nose wrinkled slightly in distaste.

“Trust me, I don’t,” she said.

Though Crier couldn’t see her face, she could practically hear the smirk as she said, “You heard her. Get lost or I might decide to report you to Rowan.”

Crier didn’t know who Rowan was, but from the way the man paled and began backing away, she could tell she must’ve been important. Or influential, at least.

The girl gave a mocking wave as they watched the man scamper off, shoulders hunched. Once he was far enough away, she snorted and turned to Crier. “I should’ve gotten him kicked out of here earlier, this always happens. I’m sorry you had to be tonight’s target.”

“Thank you,” Crier told her sincerely. “You did not have to stand up for me like that.” She let her lips lift into a small smile, heart suddenly pounding in her chest now that the girl’s attention was on her now.

“If I didn’t want to, then I would not have. Perhaps it was fated,” the girl told her, voice almost teasing despite the edge of sarcasm it held.

Crier wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so she only shrugged, glancing down at the floor. When her eyes flickered back up, she was surprised to see the girl still standing there. Her dark eyes were focused on where Crier’s fingers toyed with a thin chain bracelet on her wrist, lips parted in surprise.

“Oh,” she said quietly. Her voice was almost inaudible with the volume of the music, softer than only a few moments before.

Immediately, Crier knew what she saw. Her Soulmark. That meant something, didn’t it? She didn’t have much experience, but she knew that was not usually the reaction people had to seeing a stranger’s Soulmark, especially one who was not their soulmate.

Crier’s fingers stopped on the bracelet chain. “So is it you, then?” she asked quietly. Her heart felt ready to combust. She wanted to run. To scream or step closer and grab the fox girl’s wrist to see for herself, to just do _something_ other than stand there like a moron.

The girl’s eyes snapped upward, seeming to have some sort of realization. She nodded slowly, unsure. “I think so. You’re the one Benjy was talking about, then.”

“Yeah, that’s me,” Crier said, face flushing. “Uh, hi.” She lifted her hand and waved.

The girl stared at her wrist as it happened, then down at her own, which Crier could now clearly see, despite the dark lighting, the identical geometric heart.

 _It was her._ Crier felt a bit nauseous, but it was more from the exhilaration than any anxiety.

“Hi,” the girl replied, voice a bit strained. She cleared her throat, brows furrowing a bit. “Hi. I’m Ayla. I wasn’t really planning on meeting you like that, but I suppose it’s a bit too late to change that.”

“Ayla,” Crier echoed. It was a beautiful name, somehow fitting for the beautiful girl in front of her. “It’s lovely to meet you. I’m Crier.”

Ayla’s eyebrows rose. “Crier. Like the— like the princess. Lady Crier.”

Crier flushed darker. “Uh, yeah. I hope you don’t mind. If you don’t want anything to do with me because of,” she waved a hand vaguely in the direction of the palace, “all that, I completely understand. Just knowing that you exist is enough.”

“Oh,” Ayla said, clearly taken aback. “I— thank you. I appreciate it. I would like to see you again, but it will take a bit of time for me to process that you’re… that you’re Lady Crier. Your family has not been kind to mine, as you might understand.”

Crier did. More than she would’ve liked to. What felt like a lifetime before, Crier had followed all her father’s laws, all his ideas and aspirations without any hesitation. But that had been before she expanded her research and discovered the full extent of what he and Kinok believed in. She did not want to be like that. Instead, she’d thrown herself into connecting with the common people and knowing about their suffering by royal hands. She wanted to make a change in the administration, once she took power. The first step towards that was empathy for everyone her family— including her father— had hurt.

“Yes, of course,” she said sincerely. “I would never intentionally put you into a situation that would make you feel trapped or uncomfortable. Whatever you’d like us to be, it will be more than enough.”

Ayla smiled, something different than the way she’d sneered at the man earlier. It was soft and secretive, something full of gratitude and hope. It was for Crier. It was because of Crier. She couldn’t help but grin back, unable to look away.

“Thank you.”

“There’s nothing to thank me for,” Crier told her. Then, she repeated Ayla’s earlier words quietly, “Perhaps it was fated.”

Ayla snorted, stepping closer. “Perhaps it was,” she said. Then, she dropped into an overexaggerated bow, looking through her dark, thick lashes up at Crier as she held out a hand. “Would you allow me the honor of having a dance with you?”

Crier bit her lip, trying to suppress a giggle. “The honor would be all mine, m’lady.”

As Ayla led her into the crowd of dancers, irises reflecting firelight like stars, Crier knew that this was only the beginning of something lovely.

**Author's Note:**

> sadly no kiss this fic despite how much i wanted to write one, but i promise my next one will have a lot to make up for it. i really love writing kisses, yall. anyway, thank you so much for reading, leave a comment or kudos if you'd like and i hope to see you next fic! i've made a series for all my crayla that you can subscribe to if you want to keep up with whenever i make a new one :D
> 
> until then, you can catch me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/adverbialnouns) or [tumblr](http://adverbialstarlight.tumblr.com)


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